


when we're this young, we have nothing to lose

by daggertattoos



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 2013 era, AU, Fluff, Husbands, In Vegas, M/M, Marriage, They got married, Vegas, and a lil bit of something else, its all just fluff, larry - Freeform, larry au, wedding au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-08 16:49:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5505464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daggertattoos/pseuds/daggertattoos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <cite>Louis wants this, he knows he does. But he can't just ask Harry to marry him like this, in fucking Vegas. He can't. He just can't.</cite>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>  <cite>But, he really must be drunk, fucking wasted, because he decides he's going to do it anyway.</cite></p>
            </blockquote>





	when we're this young, we have nothing to lose

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written in MONTHS but I finished this in a couple of days and I had so so much fun with it!
> 
> This is inspired by and dedicated to my lovely [Candy](https://mobile.twitter.com/woahsciIes) who came up with half of the ideas in here, so I have her to thank for this! ((This was literally based off one of our many crazy twitter convos))
> 
> The title is from [Vegas Skies](http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=MXtultcF088) by The Cab
> 
> Watch this lil [edit](https://vine.co/v/iqAz915FaKD) I made for this fic :)))
> 
>  
> 
> M for language

“Let's go to Vegas!”

That's Louis' first suggestion when the boys finally get a weekend off, a technical error in their schedule giving them a chance to take a short break while management rearranges their upcoming events. They're pretty sure someone's getting fired for fucking up their itinerary, but with the endless pressure that they've been getting the past few weeks, they're a little – _okay,_ maybe a lot – glad that someone messed it up. They need the chill time, honestly. It's their third year in the industry and it's been the hardest yet, and they're exhausted.

“Sorry, mate,” Liam says, clapping his hand over Louis' shoulder with a half-hearted smile. “I'm heading home. I haven't seen my family in ages.”

“Me too, Lou,” Zayn chirps, already stuffing his clothes into a duffel bag, eager to be back in his own home. “I miss my mum.”

Louis frowns at the two of them. “Our families are all coming down for the big show in a couple of weeks,” he argues, wanting to convince his friends to stay. “You'll see them then, yeah?”

This time, it's Niall who gives Louis a small shake of his head, replying, “It's not the same. We'll be working then. You know how it's like, Louis.”

Louis snaps his head around to face Niall, his eyebrows pulled together and the sour look on his face deepens. “Oh, come on. Not you too!”

Niall simply gives him a shrug, then a little chuckle before he disappears to pack his things, just like Liam and Zayn. Louis sighs, then he turns to the other boy, who's been sitting quietly on the couch, toying with the bracelets wrapped around his wrists.

“Harry?” Louis calls, catching his attention and the boy's head lifts immediately, big green eyes staring up at Louis. “What do you say? You? Me? _Vegas?_ ”

Harry takes a moment to consider it. He does miss his family. He misses his mum, he misses Gemma, Robin too. But, then again, Louis' right. He'd see them soon, anyway. And Harry's always been good at prioritising his time, especially when it came to work and his family. He'll find time to spend with them when they visit. He always does. Plus, it's been forever since he's had his own free time to spend with the boys, with _Louis_. It's not everyday that he gets the opportunity to just drop everything and go off on an impromptu getaway with his boyfriend.

So, he hums softly, his lips pursing as he looks at Louis, his hand coming up to pinch his own chin as he mumbles, “Hmm, I don't know, Lou...” Louis' hopeful expression begins to falter, so Harry lets out a little laugh, dimples evident in his cheeks as his grin widens, exaggeratedly rolling his eyes and he says, “Of course I'll go with you, dummy.”

“Really?”

“Ye-”

Before Harry can finish, Louis' already grabbing his hand, pulling him to their room to get packed and before they know it, they're on the next flight to Las Vegas.

#

Of course, they book the penthouse, even if it's only for a couple of days, they want to make the most of it. The place is equipped with all kinds of shit that shouldn't be in hotel rooms really. A hot tub, a pool table, a mini theatre, a fucking _trampoline?_ Jesus, these Vegas people really know how to make a guy feel at home. Louis' just about to somersault onto the trampoline when he hears Harry call his name from the bedroom, and he grumbles to himself about Harry's wonderful timing until he's standing in the door of the room, his gaze landing on a nude Harry, the only thing keeping him covered are the thin sheets strategically placed across his crotch and Louis thinks he might've stopped breathing.

“Christ, Har-”

The doorbell rings and Louis curses, smacking his hand to his forehead. Everyone's got fantastic timing today. Just fucking fantastic. He crosses the room to the door, his jaw set stubbornly as he yanks the door open.

“ _What?_ ”

The man on the other side of the door, crisp uniform on his body, stutters slightly when he says, “Uh, Mr Tomlinson? Your, um, your limousine is ready.”

“Oh,” is all Louis says, shoulders slumping forward. He'd hired a limousine to take them around tonight, because neither of them had been to Vegas before and they'd probably end up getting lost if they tried to explore the place on their own, but he didn't realise it was that time already. He pinches the bridge of his nose, forcing a tight smile at the guy. “We'll be down in a minute.”

Louis doesn't give him time to respond, letting the door slam shut as he marches back to the bedroom, only to see Harry lying with his chin in his palm now, his lips in a small pout as he stares blankly at the tv screen. Louis gets a running start and jumps onto the bed, startling Harry and before Harry can yell at him, he catches Harry's lips in a strong, but gentle kiss, his hands pressing to the sides of Harry's face firmly, but soft all at once. Harry loves those kind of kisses, so he lets it slide, his body going pliant and weak at Louis' touch. He's aware how naked he is, and just as he's about to press his body against Louis', the older boy pulls back with a bright grin, flushed cheeks and all, and he says, “Get dressed, babe. We're going out.”

“But-”

“I know,” Louis breathes out, squeezing Harry's sides with a scrunch of his nose. “We'll continue this later, okay?”

Louis presses another small kiss to Harry's frowning lips and Harry laughs, mumbling an, “Okay,” against his boy's lips, pecking him a few more times before he can pull himself away to get ready.

Harry knows Louis is staring at his bare body when he walks away, so he puts a little sway in his hips and he bends over awfully slowly to reach their bags, hearing Louis hiss softly behind him. He chuckles softly to himself as he tugs on his boxers, purposely wiggling his ass when he does, earning another obscene noise from his boyfriend. He dresses slowly, sensually, running his hands over the soft material of his pants after he puts them on, letting his palms rest over his bum a little longer than necessary, all with his back still facing Louis, but he doesn't need to turn to know that Louis' eyes are burning holes into his arse. He's just about to button his shirt when he feels a sharp tug on his hips, then he's being flipped over, his back flat against the wall as Louis' hands roam his torso, a devilish smirk on his lips as he grabs at Harry's shirt, asking, “Want some help with that?”

All Harry can do is nod.

Louis lowers his head, his lips pressing against Harry's jaw, right where it meets his neck, and his fingers trail down Harry's smooth shirt to find the buttons. He leaves wet kisses on Harry, along his jawline, down the side of his neck, across his collarbones, teeth grazing the soft skin ever so often, making Harry squirm under him as he buttons the shirt up. He makes a point to suck a dark bruise just above Harry's right collarbone, leaving the top buttons open just enough to show off the mark. He steps back to admire his work, his eyes lighting up at the sight of the love bite and Harry's disheveled state, then he notices something, and he bursts out into laughter.

“What is it? What's wrong?” Harry asks, self-consciousness washing over him and he almost wraps his arms around his body, but Louis grabs his hands, an amused look on his face.

“M'sorry, baby,” Louis says through a giggle, gesturing at Harry's shirt. “I buttoned it up wrong. I think I missed a few.”

“Oh.” Harry lets out a breath of relief, allowing himself to laugh too, shaking his head. He starts to unbutton the shirt with one hand, the other hand slowly pushing Louis towards the clothes, his voice soft and sweet when he tells Louis, “That's okay, love, I'll fix it. Go ahead and get ready.”

Louis gives him an appreciative smile, because god, Harry's such a blessing. Not just to him, but to the entire world and Louis knows that he doesn't deserve Harry. And maybe he's a little selfish, but he's still keeping Harry all to himself. Always.

Louis gets dressed much faster than Harry does, he always has, and he's only in a t-shirt while Harry's gone so far as to throw on a blazer over his sheer shirt, but he still manages to look just as good as Harry. Harry's always envied that. But, really, Louis just doesn't want to keep their limousine waiting. They've spent far too much time on Harry's little dress up game earlier that Louis had no choice but to rush. Maybe he'll give Harry a strip tease later. He makes a mental note to himself about it.

In the limousine, they slide open the glass screen on the roof of the car, standing up and letting their bodies pop out of the top, looking at the city around them as they drive through the busy streets. Their eyes light up just as bright as the Vegas skies, and it's fucking incredible. The city looks so ecstatic, and radiant, and _alive_. Exactly how Louis feels around Harry, and he wonders if that's how Harry feels around him. When Harry puts a hand on the back of his neck and pulls him in for a kiss, Louis knows that Harry feels that way too. At least, he hopes so.

See, Louis' always been the kind of person who knows what he wants and how to get it. He doesn't really take no for an answer. It's not part of his nature. When he sees something he wants, he goes after it and he gets it. With Harry, though, it was different. When he first saw Harry, he definitely knew that he wanted the boy, but for the first time in his life, he was afraid that he wouldn't be able to get Harry. He was afraid Harry wouldn't want him. In fact, it got to a point where Louis would actually be okay with Harry saying no. That's how weak Harry made him, but he didn't mind. After all, he knew he didn't deserve Harry. But, he still wanted Harry, he wanted him so fucking bad, and by some incredible twist of fate, Harry wanted him just as much and well, here they are now.

In Harry's defence, Louis was everything he ever wanted. He didn't need convincing. None at all. To him, Louis' the one for him, always has been and always will be. He can't explain it, really. Louis is just _it_ for him. And he wouldn't have it any other way.

#

Louis has never been very good at gambling, neither has Harry. What they are good at is blowing off money and getting drunk, which is what Vegas is all about, isn't it? They were already feeling bubbly from all the champagne in the limo, and Louis' downed a couple of whiskeys, while Harry's sipping on his second – _no,_ third – cocktail, the pretty concoctions far too tempting to him. Louis can hold his alcohol pretty well, but he's not too sure about Harry. The younger boy is already looking like he's on cloud fucking nine as he laughs at something Louis says, he's not sure if it was even funny, but he joins Harry, throwing his head back in a loud chuckle because nothing gets him going more than seeing Harry like this, all happy and glowing. _He's beautiful_ , Louis thinks, _so beautiful._ And Louis loves him. Louis loves him so much that it actually makes his heart fucking _ache_ , because he wants Harry, all of Harry, more than he's ever wanted anything in the world. And he thinks that he would marry Harry. Yes, he's certainly entertained the idea before, but he's never really thought about it the way he's thinking about it now, and he thinks that he would actually do it here, _now._

No. That's the alcohol talking. The toxic is getting to his head. But, is it? Harry is the love of his life, he'd go to hell and back for the boy. Would it be so wrong to want to spend the rest of his life with the one person who makes him feel like life is actually worth living? Louis wants this, he knows he does. But he can't just ask Harry to marry him like this, in fucking _Vegas._ He can't. He just can't.

But, he really must be drunk, fucking wasted, because he decides he's going to do it anyway. He stops Harry from taking another drink, holding his pretty face in his hands, allowing himself a few moments to just admire the masterpiece that is Harry, every inch of his face, every curve, every bump, every distinct mark that makes up his breathtaking features. And god, Louis is really doing this.

“Harry?”

“What?” The way Harry almost giggles the word, his voice so soft and delicate, makes Louis' heart squeeze in his chest and he mutters, “One second.”

He lets go of Harry's face to reach for a double shot of vodka that's been sitting on the counter, begging for him to take it, and he gulps it down, feeling it burn in his throat. He needs all the liquid confidence he can get if he's really going to do this. He takes Harry's hands this time, because he's sure that his palms are getting sweaty and he doesn't want to make Harry's face all grubby. But maybe Harry's hands are a bad idea too, because Louis' gripping them so tightly, he's afraid he might squeeze the life right out of his boy. 

He takes a deep breath, and much to his surprise, his voice doesn't shake, doesn't waver at all when he asks, “Do you want to get married?”

Harry's quick to respond, that boyish grin still on his face, voice bubbly and light and high. “What, like, _now?_ ”

Louis nods, too eagerly, he notices. But he wants this. He really, really wants this. But it's okay, it'll be okay, if Harry says no. He'll be okay. At least, he thinks he will.

And Harry must really be drunk too, really fucking wasted too, because he squeezes Louis' hands back just as hard, dimples popping as he locks his eyes right onto Louis' hazy ones, saying, “Let's do it, babe.”

Then, Louis is kissing him, pushing his tongue between Harry's lips and he tastes sweetness, cherry, maybe? But beneath the alcohol, he tastes Harry, his Harry, on his tongue, along his teeth, across the roof of his mouth, everywhere. It's all just _Harry_ and it's Louis' favourite taste in the whole world. When he pulls back, Harry is breathing heavily, his lips full and pink and almost swollen, so Louis gives him another soft peck to soothe him. But it turns into another tongue fest, another few minutes flying by as they snog the fuck out of each other because, well, why not?

No one knows them here. And if they do, they keep their mouths shut and their gazes low, so Louis appreciates that. He doesn't need beady little eyes staring at his boyfriend – no, his _fiancé_. Louis doesn't care that it wasn't a proper proposal, and that this isn't a proper engagement, but he likes the sound of it and it makes him feel all giddy inside. And Jesus, they need to do this now, before Louis bursts into an explosion of rainbow glitter. He really thinks he might.

Next thing they know, they're climbing into the backseat of the limousine, Louis calling out to the driver between slick, sloppy kisses, something along the lines of, “Chapel. Now. Please. _Fuck_ , Harry.” 

The driver doesn't seem fazed by the hasty request, doesn't even question it, a knowing little smile on his lips as he starts to drive away from the bright city, away from the glitz and glam. They pass a gas station and Louis manages to pull himself away from Harry long enough to tell the driver to pull over, before he flings himself out of the car, disappearing for a couple of minutes before he's running back in, the door slamming behind him and he's got the cheekiest grin on his face.

Harry eyes him suspiciously, eyes narrowed but lips curled up, and he asks, “What was that about? Did you have to wee or something?”

“Or something,” is all Louis says in reply. 

The car begins to turn onto smaller roads, until they pull up at a small chapel that looks legit enough, a neon sign above it blinking down at them. The dim street lamps give off a warm glow that dances on their skin when they step out onto the street, Harry in the front with Louis' arms coiled around his waist and he curls forward a little so Louis doesn't have to tiptoe much to rest his chin on Harry's shoulder, their cheeks pressed to each other.

“We're really doing this, huh?” Louis asks, a light pink tint to his already rosy skin, and he lets out a breathy chuckle.

Louis feels Harry nod against his cheeks, skin brushing against Louis' light stubble. He squeezes Harry one more time before he says, “Come on then, darling,” and he leads Harry into the chapel, his hands never leaving Harry's sides. Once they're inside, Louis talks to the minister and sorts out the marriage license and the money and all the shit that Harry shouldn't have to deal with, while Harry roams the chapel, admiring the simple, yet intricate design of the building. Despite the very Vegas-like manner on the outside, the inside is gorgeous, Harry thinks, and if he had to get married in any chapel in Las Vegas, it would be this one.

He's tracing the carvings on the wall when Louis calls his name, his voice low and gruff, but calm and gentle all at once. Harry turns to see Louis already waiting for him at the altar, the minister behind him, and Harry glances at the long trail between the seats, before his eyes flicker back to Louis' and before he can even open his mouth to speak, Louis' already grinning. 

“You wanna walk down the aisle, Haz?” Louis asks, a knowing tilt in his voice that makes warmth spread through Harry's body in tingly sparks, from the tips of toes all the way up to his curly head.

Harry beams back at Louis, because Louis just _knows_ him, and he hurries over to the end of the aisle, running a hand through his hair and straightening out his shirt. There's no choir, because it's already awfully late at night, so he decides to hum to himself, and Louis backs him up, singing softly as Harry walks gracefully down the flower-scattered aisle, probably leftover from the previous couples. It's a little weird walking on his own, but seeing the way Louis' eyes light up with every step he takes makes it worthwhile. His long legs carry him elegantly for the first few strides, but it's almost inevitable when his foot gets caught on a bump in the rug, sending him tumbling face first onto the floor.

He lands with a loud ‘oof!’ and he whines, lifting his hand weakly towards the altar. His cheek is smushed into the floor and voice is muffled when he mumbles into the carpet, “Lou? A little help?”

Harry hears a soft “Aw, baby,” before he's being pulled up by strong hands, and his body is wrapped around Louis' immediately, his face automatically burying itself in the crook of Louis' shoulder.

“You're such a klutz,” Louis mutters, a hint of amusement in his voice as he peppers small kisses on the side of Harry's head, just above his ear.

“I know,” Harry murmurs back, pressing his face deeper into Louis' body, breathing in his familiar scent. It's comforting. It's Louis.

Then, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Just a little bump on my head.”

“I'll make it better later,” Louis whispers, his hand coming up to stroke Harry's soft hair. “I promise.”

#

“Do you have any vows?”

Louis' eyebrows raise, a funny little twist on his lips as he glances at the minister. “Uh, no? Are they- I mean, do we need them?”

The ageing man shrugs, saying, “It's up to you.” He looks tired, and Louis wonders how many nights he's spent doing this, marrying off drunk, young couples. He figures it must be a lot, so he skips the vows, asking the minister to carry on the ceremony, until they get to the part where he asks, “Louis, do you take Harry as your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I-”

“Wait, Lou!” Harry shouts suddenly, and Louis' breath hitches in his throat. Harry can't seriously be backing out now. Not now. Not-

“We don't have rings!”

Jesus fucking Christ, Harry. Way to scare a guy. Louis lets out breath he didn't know he was holding and he laughs. The rings. Of course. Louis holds up a finger, his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth as he digs around in his pocket, and Harry's eyes widen. Surely he hasn't got an actual ring in there. This was a spontaneous decision, wasn't it? A heat-of-the-moment sort of thing, right? Surely Louis hadn't planned this whole thing. It was the alcohol talking when Louis asked him earlier, wasn't it? It had to be.

Harry's head is starting to spin, and his heart almost jumps up his throat when Louis finally pulls something out of his pocket, his fist closed tightly around it. Harry can feel his heart pounding in his chest, and he's sure it's about to leap out of his body, but right then, Louis opens up his outstretched palm with a loud, “Ta-da!”

And, _oh._

Rings. Gummy rings. Fucking sugar-coated, colourful gummy rings. Harry can't help it. He bursts out in a loud bark of laughter, causing Louis to let out a happy giggle of his own. It's so adorable, so quirky, _so Louis._ That must've been why he'd ran off to the gas station earlier. Cheeky. Now, Harry's convinced that it is the booze that's fuelling Louis' actions and he should feel relieved, but he can't help but notice the disappointing twist in his gut. But, it doesn't matter, because Louis' already back into position, the minister repeating his line, and Louis takes Harry's hand, slowly sliding a bright blue ring on his ring finger, giving Harry a fond smile as he says, “I do. I really fucking do.”

Louis holds out the pack of gummies to Harry as the minister says, “Harry, do you take Louis as your lawfully wedded husband?”

Louis is biting down on his bottom lip to stop himself from smiling so much, but he can't help it, his lips stretching into a face-splitting grin when he sees that Harry picks out a green ring, fitting it around Louis' finger as he smiles widely, singing, “I do, I do, I do.” 

Louis rolls his eyes. Fucking Mamma Mia worshipper.

The minister lets out a sigh, but he's got a content smile on his face when he says, “You may now ki-”

But they're already kissing, Louis' hands holding Harry's face gently, his thumbs massaging Harry's cheeks, tracing his cheekbones, and Harry's arms curl around the small of Louis' back, pulling him higher and Louis squeaks when Harry's hands tighten around his bum. For that moment, they forget that there's anyone else in the room, they forget where they are, they forget everything except each other. For that moment, it's just them, just Louis and Harry. Always.

And holy fuck, _they're married._

#

“Blue for your eyes?”

“Yeah, and green for yours.”

They're walking back into their suite, Harry eyeing their coloured rings and his voice is small when he says, “Hey, Lou?”

“Hmm?” Louis looks up at him, a fond smile on his face, crinkles by his eyes.

“Don't hate me, but-” 

Louis' stomach begins to churn. No, no, no-

“Can I eat my ring?”

“Can you- _What?_ ”

Harry gives him a sheepish look, lifting his shoulder lightly. “It looks yummy. And I'm hungry. We missed dinner, you know.”

Louis shakes his head, laughing softly to himself. God, Harry's so precious. Of course, Louis had anticipated this, saying, “I had a feeling you might say something like that, which is why...” He trails off, letting go of Harry's hand to rummage around in his pockets, and he pulls out at least three more packets of gummies. “I bought extra!”

Harry flings his arms around Louis' neck, maybe a little too tightly, but he can't help it. Louis just knows him so well. Everything about him. Louis' a genius. And he can't believe he's lucky enough to be married to Louis. Fucking married.

After a long overdue “I love you” “I love you _more_ ” “No, I love you _most_ ” fight, they flop down onto the bouncy bed, their backs propped up against the fluffy pillows and they munch on the colourful candies, throwing the little pieces at each other, both their aimings totally far off. They stay like that for the rest of the night, getting high on sugar and on each other's presence, until they start to slip into unconsciousness. But before Harry blacks out completely, he thinks he hears Louis whisper, “It'll be okay.”

#

Louis wakes to a soft kiss on the centre of his forehead, and another on the tip of his nose, and one more full on his lips. When his eyes flutter open, he's greeted with the sight of Harry sitting in his lap, curls wild and loose, and he looks so young like this, and Louis is reminded how young the boy actually is. Only nineteen. And look what he's done. He's _married_. Like, _legally_. Louis wonders if that's okay with him, and he's afraid it might not be. He's afraid that now that the alcohol has worn off, Harry might realise that he's made a mistake, that he's not ready for this, that he doesn't want this as much as Louis does. He's afraid, but he tells himself it'll be okay. With Harry, it's always okay.

To Louis' delight, Harry gives him another peck on his thin lips, pulling back with a bright grin and he says, “Good morning, husband.”

_Husband._

Louis takes that as a good sign, hoping that it means that Harry doesn't regret last night. Louis definitely doesn't. He smiles sweetly at Harry, his hands coming up to run through Harry's hair, smoothening out the tangles and he whispers back, “Good morning to you too, husband. My baby Tarzan husband.”

Harry laughs at that, showing off those adorable dimples and Louis does everything in his power to keep himself from poking them. Still grinning, Harry asks, “Hungry, babe?”

It's then that Louis registers the smell of bacon, and warm bread, and he can't help the way his stomach growls, aching for some sustenance. He's a grown man, he can't just survive on booze and sweets. Although he sort of wishes he could. What a life that would be. Oh well. Louis makes Harry give him a piggyback ride to the lounge because he's still half asleep and Harry's more than willing to oblige, hooking his arms under Louis' knees and Louis' arms go around Harry's neck, his head nuzzling into his hair. Harry carries him to the lounge, gently setting him down on the couch and Louis sees a huge breakfast spread on the table, his mouth watering at all the food but really, it's a lot. Like, a whole fucking lot. He's not sure they can finish it all.

“I figured you'd be hungry, so,” Harry chuckles awkwardly when he sees Louis gaping at the food, scratching the back of his neck lightly.

Louis watches him, the way he almost curls in on himself, the way his eyes flicker up and down nervously, the way he looks over to Louis for his approval, his consolation and Louis gives it to him, patting the spot next to him, saying, “I'm starving. Come eat with me, Haz.”

Harry visibly relaxes, a small smile forming on his face, but before he goes to Louis, he gestures at the teacup, asking, “Tea, husband?”

Louis grins, nodding his head firmly. “That'd be lovely, husband.” His smile stretches even more as he watches Harry brew his cup of tea, milk first, just how Louis likes it. Harry slowly brings the hot cup over to him, being careful not to spill it, his tongue poking out in concentration as he tiptoes around the table. He lets out a relieved huff once the cup is in Louis' hands, allowing himself to sink into the couch next to Louis. He watches Louis take a sip, and another, and another. See, Louis' always been good at making tea for himself, because he knows exactly how he wants it, but goddamn, Harry makes a pretty mean cup too, just as good as his own.

“S'good,” Louis mumbles over the cup, swallowing another big gulp, the drink warming up his body immediately. “Thanks, love.”

Harry beams at Louis, proud of himself for nailing it. If he's going to spend the rest of his life with Louis, he should at least be able to make his husband a proper cup of tea. Of course, he's done it before, countless of times, because really, they've been living with each other for years, he learned the hang of it after a week or so of watching Louis make his cuppa every morning. But this time, it's different. It means something a little more.

And Louis feels the same. He knows how Harry likes his eggs cooked, and how he likes his bacon crispy, and how he hates raisins in his scones. He's known it for years, but now, there's that little extra pressure to make sure that he gets it all right, exactly the way Harry wants it.

Although, they both know that it would be okay if they messed up. It would be okay if Harry put too much milk in Louis' tea. It would be okay if Louis made scrambled eggs instead of an omelette. It would probably still be okay if they burned the entire kitchen down. With them, it's always okay. But it doesn't hurt to make a little extra effort to do things right, especially if they're going to be doing this till they're old and wrinkly and dying.

Louis really fucking hopes they make it that far. And with the way things are going this morning, he's got high hopes that they will. But he must've spoke – or thought – too soon, because right then, in the middle of chewing on a piece of toast, Harry decides to say, “Lou, I need to tell you something.”

And Louis feels his heart start to race in his chest, a horrible feeling pooling in the pit of his stomach because this must be it. This must be the point where Harry tells Louis that last night shouldn't have happened, that he doesn't really want to be married to Louis, that it was a whole fucking mistake and Louis' head is spinning and spinning and-

“I wasn't really drunk last night.”

Oh, _fuck._

“I was a little tipsy, yeah, but I've had harder stuff, so those were nothing, really,” Harry explains, casting his gaze down, his food abandoned as he fiddles around with his fingers. “And I guess I just needed you to know that when I said I do, I really did mean it, that I really do want to be married to you.”

“Oh,” is all Louis can manage to choke out, his eyes wide and mouth slightly gaping.

And this must be it. This must be the point where Louis tells Harry that this was all just a drunken incident, that he didn't actually want this, that it was all just his intoxicated self talking. So, Harry bites down so hard on his lips that he thinks he might have drawn blood, bracing himself for the worst, but it never comes.

Instead, he hears Louis' hushed voice whisper, “I wasn't that drunk either.”

Harry looks up at him and he's got a twisted look on his face, somewhere between relief and confusion and disbelief.

“I know I had a few drinks, but I meant it too, when I asked you,” Louis says, his voice still small and almost quiet, so unlike his usual manner. “I wanted to. I mean, I think I've always wanted to. I suppose the liquor just gave me that little extra push.”

“You really wanted this?” Harry asks, his big eyes searching Louis' face, trying to find any trace of doubt, but there's nothing. 

Louis' face is pure, and calm, and so fucking sincere when he answers, “Harry, I've never wanted anything more in my life.”

Then, Harry is on him, his body curling around Louis', his face pressed into his chest, and Louis laughs, his own arms winding around the boy's back, holding him closer. And Louis can't see himself spending the rest of his life doing anything other than this right here; just him and Harry, holding onto each other like their lives depended on it, and if he's being honest, he really thinks that they do. There's nothing special about it, nothing particularly _wow!_ about the whole thing, but Louis thinks it's the best feeling in the world, being in Harry's arms, breathing him in like fucking oxygen and to him, it just feels like home. Harry's always been his home. And Louis' always been his. They both know that.

That's enough to convince Louis that last night wasn't a fluke, that it was probably the best decision the two of them have ever made and god, he's so happy that they did.

When Harry finally pulls himself away from Louis, he's rolling his lips in sheepishly and his cheeks are flushed. He's pretty like that, Louis thinks, all shy and shit. His thumb ghosts over the curve of Harry's cheekbone, feeling actual warmth radiating from Harry's smooth skin, unable to stop himself from pressing his hand against the soft cheek and he smiles. Harry smiles too, then he clasps his hand over Louis' on his face, absentmindedly stroking Louis' knuckles and he says, “Since we've both agreed that we really do want this, do you think we could have a proper wedding?”

When Louis' face falls a little, as does his hand, Harry grabs the hand again and quickly adds, “Not that last night wasn't a proper wedding! It was incredible! Perfect even, I swear.” He gives Louis' hand a squeeze. “It's just, maybe we could do one back home, with our families and the boys, couple of friends too. Doesn't have to be big, but, you know. It'd be nice. And maybe we could get proper rings too, since we ate all of ours.”

Louis feels his heart flutter, cracking a smile as he nods. “Yeah. Yeah, you're right. We should. Plus, I don't think Mum would be very happy to know we got hitched in Vegas.”

Harry lets out a little laugh at that, then he goes quiet, eyes wide and he blinks, twice. Louis looks over at him with furrowed brows, concern in his voice when he asks, “What is it, love?”

Harry shakes his head, letting it fall but Louis is persistent, putting a finger under Harry's chin and lifting his face, a pointed look on his own face and he mutters, “No, no, none of that. Come on now. Tell me.”

“It's gonna sound stupid.”

“No, it's not.”

Harry lets out a heavy sigh, because Louis can be such a stubborn little shit sometimes and he knows that Louis isn't going to drop this until Harry spits it out, so he does. “I know I'm the one who suggested the wedding and all, but do you think we could put it off for a little while?”

Louis doesn't question him, just nudges at him to keep going.

“I just, I don't know,” he huffs, almost laughing emptily. “Is it bad that I sort of wanna keep this to ourselves? I mean, everything about us, about our lives, is always just out there, all the time. Is it okay if we could have this one thing just for us? Just for a little while?”

It's okay. It's always okay.

And Louis gets it. Life in the limelight isn't always as glorious as it seems and after years of having your entire life being printed in magazines and posted on the internet, it is nice to have something just for them, just him and Harry. So, Louis' lips curve into a sweet smile as he nods, saying, “It'll be our little secret, husband.”

#

It's Monday morning when they meet up with the boys again, and they all look proper rested, the dark circles under their eyes not as prominent as they had been the week before. They're not a hundred percent, but they'll be okay.

“So, how was Vegas?”

That's the question on everybody's lips, because all that the other boys had to say about their weekend was that their families are well, so they all turn to Louis and Harry for a good story. 

Louis glances at Harry, amusement twinkling in his blue eyes before he turns back to the boys, shrugging his shoulders and he says, “Well, I found out I'm a shit gambler. And there was a trampoline. It was sick.”

The three boys scoff, rolling their eyes because they already knew that Louis' isn't good at cards, and that he's basically a man child, so they switch their attention to Harry, who gives them an equally nonchalant look, only an innocent smile on his lips when he says, “We ate gummy rings. A _lot_ of gummy rings.”

The boys groan loudly, Niall tossing a balled up piece of paper at Harry's head and Zayn sneers at them, “You two are so full of shit, you know? You were in Sin City, for fuck's sake. You must've done _something._ ”

Louis holds his hands up in defence, a cheeky little grin on his face and in a split-second, he sends a quick wink to Harry, too fast for anyone else to notice, before he cocks his pretty head at the boys, mischief lighting up his eyes and Harry has to keep himself from bursting out into laughter.

“Come on now, lads. You know how it is,” Louis says, a teasing tone in his voice and he glances at Harry out of the corner of his eye. “What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.”

**Author's Note:**

> Leave me some thoughts and kudos! <3


End file.
